


what you said you were

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Acceptance, Bi-Erasure, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10168469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “I don’t know if you’re joking when you say those things, or if that’s how you really feel about me being bi,” Robert continues, unable to stop the tirade now it’s started. Aaron’s eyes are wide, sad, but even that doesn’t derail Robert. “You’re constantly telling me that you don’t get it, that I can’t make up my mind, that I can’t choose. So no, Aaron, I don’t know.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for anna, mostly while driving home from belgium this weekend. 
> 
> i'm not... overly sure how i feel about it, mostly because my relationship with anything explicitly related is sketchy at best (my ace ass knows nothing lmao) but yeah. 
> 
> i'm also not bi, i'm gay; so i hope it's respectful 
> 
> enjoy :)
> 
> (includes some bisexual slurs on the part of other people.)

They’re settled in The Mill, making it somewhere they’re proud to call home, when Robert decides to bite the bullet.

Liv’s staying with her mum for the first week of the summer holidays, Robert and Aaron both packing her off with enough clothes, food and money to last her the full week and not just a flight to Ireland, but they’re still not quite used to letting her out of their sight, not after the forging she and they have been doing to get back to where they were _before_.

The Friday afternoon they drop her at Manchester airport, Robert’s driving home, eyes flicking across to where Aaron’s slouched in his seat, mucking about on his phone.

“You wanna go out tonight?” Robert asks, fingers tighter than they need to be on the steering wheel.

“Where?” Aaron’s still playing on his phone, that stupid bouncy ball game he and Adam have been playing, trying to beat each other’s high scores. Liv’s got them both beat anyway.

Robert steels himself, keeps his eyes on the road. “Bar West.”

There’s an obvious silence, then, “Are you serious?”

Taking a minute, Robert flicks the indicator, slides over into the exit lane. “I’d like to go again.”

It’s the truth; it’s been a long time since he’s felt comfortable in his skin, but he’s had time, a lot of time and pain, to come to terms with how he feels about himself and his sexuality.

Aaron’s smile is almost blinding, and he leans across, squeezes Robert’s thigh gently. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Robert says. As they pull onto the Hotten Bypass, Robert’s pleased to see the happiness bleed over; Aaron flicks on the music louder, settles back in his chair. It’s _something_ , Robert thinks, and after everything they’ve been through lately, they deserve it.

 

 

 

 

 

Bar West is crowded, but Robert’s only been here once, he doesn’t know if this is usual. Still, he bites back on the customary uncertainty and weirdness about being in a gay bar. It doesn’t feel like the last time, there’s no discomfort about couples kissing, no irritation with people looking him over. There is some when people give Aaron an appreciative glance, but Robert’s secure; he’s the one Aaron’s going home with, the one Aaron calls husband.

Aaron’s watching him, Robert can tell. Waiting for him to bolt, maybe, or at least make a comment. Instead, Robert rests a hand on the base of Aaron’s spine, directs him towards the bar. Aaron loosens up quickly, relaxing against Robert as he orders them drinks.

They settle quickly. Robert’s actually enjoying himself. The music isn’t that bad, used to it as he is with Liv and Aaron. They find a table out of the way, nearer the pool table, and Robert’s a step away from asking if Aaron wants to play when a redhead and someone Robert assumes is her girlfriend catch Aaron’s eye.

“Didn’t think we were ever gonna see you back,” she says, her voice strong over the thump of the music.

“Neither did I,” Aaron says, sharing a grin with Robert. Robert can’t help but return it, even as he feels a pang of guilt at that. It’s his fault Aaron’s not been back. At least this is something he can change.

The redhead follows his gaze, raises her eyebrows at Robert. “Who’s this then?”

“Robert,” Robert offers, not sure if he should hold out his hand or not. Thankfully, the redhead doesn’t look like she expects it.

“Hannah,” she offers, then waves a hand at her companion. “This is my girlfriend Iris.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Robert says, politely. Aaron rolls his eyes, mouths _smarmy voice_ at him, but Robert shrugs him off. He’s trying to make a good impression is all; this is still new and he doesn’t want to mess it up.

Hannah and Iris don’t seem to mind; they take the spare seats at the table, and offer to buy the next round. They’re four drinks in, Robert still nursing his second coke, and the mood’s shifted. Thankfully, it’s still lighthearted and happy, Aaron laughing more than Robert’s seen him do in a while.

“-and my parents have been regretting asking that ever since,” Hannah says, grinning widely. It’s a better coming out story than Robert’s and he feels uncomfortable under her scrutiny when she says, “how about you?”

“Hannah,” Iris chides softly. “You can’t just ask someone that.”

“It’s alright,” Robert says, over Aaron’s irritated scowl. He’s grateful for Iris’ intervening, though, and gives her a tight smile. “Let’s just say my dad didn’t appreciate my coming out as bi any more than yours did about you being gay.”

Iris gives him a sympathetic look. “That can’t be easy.”

“It’s fine,” Robert lies. “I’m happy and married. His loss.”

“Married?” Hannah looks between Robert and Aaron, then down at their hands. Robert sees it click, the irritated look she’s been carrying all night, like there’s something she’s been missing. “Aaron, you never _said_.”

“Yeah, well,” Aaron says gruffly, lips quirking up in a smile. “Nobody’s business but ours.”

There’s a subtle shift then and Robert doesn’t know what he’s said or done, but Hannah’s lips quirk up when she looks at him. “Wow, you married him and he’s bi? How’d you snatch him from the Straights and pull that one off?”

Robert freezes, fingers tightening around his glass.

Aaron leans in, and for one thrilling moment Robert thinks Aaron’s going to step in. Instead he grins, taps his finger on the table. “Well it was a close one, he was married to a woman first.”

Hannah laughs, sharing an amused smile with Iris. “So fulfilling the greedy part, eh?”

It’s not funny, it’s _not_ , and Robert goes cold, feels sick.

Aaron’s still smiling, like he has no clue what’s going on, and it hurts. Robert thought they were past this, that they’d _worked_ on it, but it’s like they’re back to before prison, Robert placing his ring on the table.

Iris starts talking then, nothing Robert’s paying attention to, he just keeps his attention on his drink, on the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Hey,” Aaron says, nudging him softly when Hannah heads for the bar. “I was only joking.”

That seems to snap whatever tenuous hold Robert has on his self control. He pulls out his wallet, lays a twenty on the table, thanking Iris. “Say bye for me.”

Iris’ eyes widen, but she nods as Robert pulls away from the table, from _Aaron_ and heads for the door.

“Robert!” Aaron follows, because there’s no way he can’t, and he tugs on Robert’s arm. “Hey, talk to me.”

Robert doesn’t know what he must look like, just feels tired. He doesn’t know what to say, how to begin explaining how he feels.

Aaron looks frustrated, but it’s the kind at himself, and not at Robert. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Robert snaps,

“I know I don’t always,” Aaron starts, looks frustrated again, scrubbing at his face. “I know I don’t always understand, but you know-“

Robert’s anger bursts out, then, bitterness welling up in his chest. “You always say that, but you know what? I don’t know, Aaron.”

Aaron’s face falls, his smile sliding into something close to horror. Robert feels viciously pleased by it.

“I don’t know if you’re joking when you say those things, or if that’s how you really feel about me being bi,” Robert continues, unable to stop the tirade now it’s started. Aaron’s eyes are wide, sad, but even that doesn’t derail Robert. “You’re constantly telling me that you don’t get it, that I can’t make up my mind, that I can’t choose. So no, Aaron, I don’t know.”

Aaron reaches for him, but Robert jerks back, knows if Aaron touches him now they’ll push it away and never talk about it again and he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want this to be forgotten _again_.

“Then let’s talk about it,” Aaron presses, earnest. He’s curling his hands into his sleeves, a gesture prison couldn’t even take from him, but any guilt Robert feels evaporates at the Bar West sign flashing overhead.

“I’m tired,” Robert says instead. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to go home.”

Aaron looks like he might dig his heels in, but Robert’s the only person aside from Liv who can out stubborn him, and Robert’s willing to put it to the test. Thankfully, Aaron blows out a slow breath, shoulders slouching a little as he nods. “Alright.”

 

 

 

 

 

The car ride is awful.

Robert drives, puts the radio on almost as soon as they’re in the car. There’s a text from Liv, she got there safe and sound and she’s thankful for the wad of twenty’s he stuffed in her bag. He grins, almost enough to pull him out of his funk.

“Rob,” Aaron starts, his tone a mix of placating and sad.

“Don’t,” Robert says, _asks_.

There’s a tense silence, but eventually Aaron nods, tugs his phone from his pocket. The silence between them stretches into something vicious and unstable by the time they reach Emmerdale, and Robert wants to break it, wants to say _something_ , but he can’t make his voice work, can’t say anything close to what he wants to. He’s angry, bitter, and sad in equal measure.

Thankfully, The Mill comes into sight before too long, Robert feeling the same thrill of _ours_ he does every time he sees it. The top flat is still empty, though Pete’s been probing for rent information and Robert’s confident he can get him to accept. Till then it’s just them, he and Aaron, and usually that would be something to celebrate. Tonight, Robert doesn’t give it a second thought. As soon as he shuts the car down, he tosses the keys into Aaron’s lap. “Shut it up. I’m going to bed.”

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron watches Robert’s back as he heads into The Mill, slouched and small. He’s angry at himself, wants to punch himself in the face for putting that expression on Robert’s face, the one he’s been wearing all night.

Climbing out of the car, Aaron locks it, tucks the keys into his pocket. The lights flick on in the hall as Robert walks through, and Aaron takes his time. It’s starting to feel like home, took his breath away when he first saw it, awed with how many people had come together to make it their house.

Prison is something Aaron’s been trying desperately to forget, but it’s given him this, he thinks; a home.

The door’s still ajar, Robert’s shoes kicked off in the hall. Aaron sighs, picks them up and shoves them into the shoe rack Vic has insisted on buying them. One of Liv’s trainers is tucked underneath, the other in the usual place. He rolls his eyes, puts the other with it.

The shower turns on and Aaron bites back an irritated huff. Robert usually stands at top of the landing, hip to the wall, sultry smile on his face as he asks Aaron to join him. Aaron doesn’t know how to break this _thing_ between them. He’s apologised, but Robert’s waiting for something else. Aaron just wishes he knew what it was.

He heads for the kitchen instead of going upstairs, thinks the shower will give Robert enough time to cool off before they get into bed. Aaron hates sleeping on an argument, knows between them it festers into something ugly. The dishes are still draining on the sideboard, Liv’s left the rubbish bag inside the back door again, and there’s a familiar black shape curled up on the mat outside. She perks her head up as Aaron nears the back door, meowing loudly as he tugs it open.

Dixie dashes into the living room, leaping straight up onto the sofa, turning her back on Aaron. She’s a _family cat,_ Robert keeps insisting, but they all know Robert’s her favourite. She and Aaron have a mutual respect-with-distance relationship, though he’s privately willing to acknowledge he dotes on her. He’ll work on the dog front, confident his buying of Dixie’s softened Robert up.

Speaking of, the shower shuts off upstairs. Aaron gives Dixie a head rub as he passes, obviously forgiven if the headbutt and purring are any indication, and heads up to see whether or not this is something they’re going to have to _fix_.  

Pushing open the bedroom door, Aaron bites his lip on a sigh, sees Robert already in bed, curled up on his side. It takes Aaron a fraction of the time to change and climb into bed, preferring a morning shower, but when he turns towards Robert, he can see Robert in a ball next to him, back stiff and breathing laboured.

Aaron hates this, wishes he could press a hand to Robert’s shoulder, but he knows that wouldn’t be wanted right now. He rests it between them on the mattress instead. “Night.”

Robert says nothing, just huffs out a breath.

Aaron wants to be angry, but as he stares at the back of Robert’s head, he thinks about it. Robert’s more sensitive about certain things than he wants anyone to know, and his sexuality is one of them. Aaron can admit that he doesn’t know much about it, and Robert’s reluctant to talk about it.

His chest aches when he thinks about what they’ve been through, the fact that his prison stay was on the heel, and a direct result of, their inability to talk about that very thing. His phone is on the nightstand, and he fumbles for it, bringing up Google.

 _Bisexuality_ is a well searched topic, and there’s a lot of helpful advice. He knew a lot of it, what he’s gleaned from Robert himself and around the bars, but there’s also a lot he didn’t know. He feels like an idiot; his _I can’t be both_ a ridiculous thing to say now that he considers it.

There are so many links, that by the time he’s finished, it’s almost half two and his eyes are starting to burn from the low light.

Kissing the back of Robert’s head, grateful that he doesn’t stir, Aaron climbs out of bed, grabs a pair of jeans and a hoodie from the back of the chair. The house is quiet, too quiet without Liv, even though she doesn’t make a lot of noise during the night. It just feels that way, even more so now that there’s this huge divide between he and Robert.

Downstairs, he leaves a note for Robert on the coffee table in case he comes downstairs, and grabs his keys from the shelf In the hallway. He just needs to drive, doesn’t really know where he’s going. It helps clear his head when his preferred option – Robert – isn’t available, or doesn’t want to be available.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s an all-night Tesco in Hotten and as Aaron passes, a few crazy people like him out doing their nightly shop, or whatever it is they do at three am. It’s starting to rain, so he flicks up his hood as he jogs into the store, probably looking like the chavvy nightmare he hasn’t been for years, and grins as he shakes off the drops inside the door. There’s beaten up, reduced flowers in the lobby, some looking like they’re desperate to be taken, half hanging out of the black boxes.

There’s a bunch of blue, pink and purple ones in a crumpled yellow wrapper and Aaron grabs them, remembers Liv making a joke about Robert wanting the spare room purple, pink and blue to celebrate his bisexual pride. To Aaron’s surprise, Robert laughed, rolling his eyes and saying, _maybe_ in a way that both Liv and Aaron knew meant _no_.

He wants a card, but he has no idea what he wants it to say. He grabs a generic _to my husband_ card and heads for the self-service checkouts. His lips twitch as he remembers their last trip here, Robert and Liv arguing over which cereal to add to the trolley, how many carrots constituted too many for their shelf life, and how long it would take Aaron to get pissed off at the self-service and switch to a checkout.

Aaron’s a lot better this time around. There’s a crumpled tenner in his pocket from that night at the bar, and Aaron shoves down the guilt. He doesn’t want to dwell on that right now, just wants to get back in his car and drive home – to Robert.

 

 

 

 

 

When he gets back, Dixie’s stretched out on the back of the sofa, almost falling off, and he rolls his eyes, shuffles her gently until she stirs, shifts into a more comfortable – and safer – position. He grabs Liv’s spare pencil case from the coffee table, tossing his note in the bin as he passes, taking the flowers and card upstairs with him.

Robert’s dead to the world, unfurled and turned towards Aaron’s side of the bed. The duvet’s shoved halfway down his hips, hair tousseled against the pillow. Aaron’s chest seizes at the sight and as soon as he’s dropped the flowers in his glass of water on the nightstand, shoving the card and pencil case down next to it, he leans over, presses a kiss to Robert’s temple. Robert mumbles, shuffles closer and Aaron wishes he could enjoy it for what it is. If he were awake, though, Robert wouldn’t be as affectionate.

Before he climbs into bed, Aaron grabs a couple of Liv’s felt, the card, and shuffles out into the hallway so that the light won’t disturb Robert. He’s glad the card wasn’t ridiculously expensive, though he’s not above defacing pricey cards, but he can’t imagine anywhere would sell the card he wants to right.

The clock in hall slides closer to four and Aaron sighs, shuffles back down the hallway and into their bedroom. Robert’s hand is resting on Aaron’s pillow and Aaron loves him so much, can’t stand this. He needs them to fix it. Shoving the card and pens back next to the flowers, he climbs in next to Robert, careful not to disturb him and sets his alarm.

Lack of sleep seems like a small price to pay for making Robert feel as loved and secure as he does.

 

 

 

 

Robert runs his fingers over the card, the _I love my bisexual husband and I'm proud of him_ stark in Aaron's handwriting against the generic background. There's no shift in Robert's expression, nothing except the stony expresson he’s been wearing all morning.

“Robert,” Aaron says, pleading. “I need you to talk to me.”

“I have,” Robert says, sounding tired.

Aaron takes the card from his hands, rests a hand on his face and forces him to look at him. Aaron’s heart clenches at the uncertainty and resignation he sees there. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more supportive.”

“I don’t know what else I can –“

“I know,” Aaron says, squeezing Robert’s shoulder with his free hand. “I looked stuff up last night, when I wasn’t buying crappy flowers from Hotten Tesco.”

Robert’s lips quirk a little, but it’s hardly the thawing Aaron’s been hoping for.

“Counselling helped you know?” Aaron says, fighting the urge to leave this part up. When he got out of prison, he and Robert promised each other this was something they’d talk about. Working through their problems separately only helps if they work through them together as well. “I spent so long assuming I knew what bisexuality meant instead of asking.”

“Or looking it up,” Robert points out, eyes flicking to Aaron’s phone. “Why did you?”

“Because I don’t want to fight,” Aaron says, brushing his thumb over Robert’s cheek. “And I don’t wanna see you look at me the way you did last night.”

There’s a flush of red over Robert’s cheeks. There’s a pause, then he nods quickly. “It hurt,” he admits, quietly. “I thought you understood.”

“I thought I did,” Aaron says. He pulls back, but Robert catches his hand, fits their fingers together. Aaron can’t help but grin, squeezes Robert’s fingers gently. It feels so much better, and he thinks he can do this, can keep making Robert smile. “I do _now_ ,” Aaron reiterates, desperate for Robert to know that he’s not just saying it. “I read a lot last night and I’ll do more, if it’ll help, if it’s what you want.”

“I just want you to be on my side,” Robert admits quietly. “It feels like everyone expects me to be one way or the other, gay or straight. There’s nothing else for anybody around here, but there is for _me_. I’m tired of being afraid of my sexuality, Aaron, of being afraid of people’s reactions to my sexuality. Of _your_ reaction to my sexuality.”

It’s the most Robert’s said about his bisexuality since his confession all that time ago in the woods. Aaron leans in, presses their foreheads together. They kiss, gently, and it feels right, makes their night apart feel worth it, somehow.

“What happened with Hannah wasn’t okay, and I’m sorry, Rob.” Aaron says, brushing a hand through Robert’s hair. “You don’t have to be afraid of my reaction anymore.”

It’s a promise he knows Robert can’t accept at face value, but he knows he means it.

“Okay,” Robert says, lips curving into a smile. “If you ever buy me flowers again, I’ll stab you with the stalks.”

“Gratitude,” Aaron complains, as Robert shoves him down, stretches over him and grins.

“I’ll show you gratitude.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chrissie’s in the bar with her new boyfriend.

Aaron doesn’t care, has more important things to worry about than whoever Chrissie’s decided is worth her time now, but Robert’s standing to her left, ordering drinks, and Aaron can see he’s biting his tongue about something. He taps the table, decides he’s better of knowing; Robert’s as likely to get punched as not, and Aaron’d really like to get home sometime soon.

“- marrying a gay guy.”

“If I’d known, I would hardly have gone through with it,” Chrissie’s saying, eyes flicking to Robert.

Robert’s back is stiff, fingers curled around the glass in his hand like a lifeline. His jaw is clenching in the way Aaron knows is protection over anger.

“Still, not an easy thing to hide is it,” Chrissie’s new beau is saying, swirling his beer around. “Not that I think you should have known.”

If this were anyone else, Aaron would take delight in the shame on Chrissie’s face, but it’s not; this is _Robert_.

“There’s nothing to _know_ ,” Aaron snaps, sliding between Robert and Chrissie. Chrissie’s boyfriend looks up, scowling.

“Not sure I asked you,” he says, standing up straighter, like that’s going to intimidate Aaron.

“Aaron,” Robert says, because of course he knows. He always knows. “It’s not worth it, let it go.”

“No,” Aaron says, because he’s done letting it go. Isn’t this what he promised Robert he’d stop? “He’s not gay.”

“Not sure why you’d care, mate,” the boyfriend says, dismissively.

“Aaron,” Chrissie starts.

“No, it’s alright,” the guy says, “let him defend his boyfriend.”

“Husband, actually,” Aaron snaps, feels the familiar thrill at that but his anger supersedes it. He curls his hands into fists, refrains from actually _doing_ anything; he’s more than learned his lesson. “Whether he's gay or not is nobody else's business."

The boyfriend snorts. “Maybe he should think about the next time he wants to play straight with someone who deserves better.”

Aaron growls, shakes off the hand Robert lays on his shoulder. “You can’t ‘play it straight’ when you’re bisexual, you small-minded moron.”

The boyfriend’s eyes narrow, and he steps around Chrissie. He’s tall, but Aaron’s been to prison; this guy doesn’t scare him remotely, and especially not when the next words out of his mouth are, “Bisexuality is just an excuse for greed.”

It’s nothing Aaron hasn’t heard a hundred times, isn’t anything he’s privately agreed with on occasion, but not now. Never now, with Robert standing behind him, with his research and attention and willingness to be what Robert needs.

“Wanna say that again?” Aaron warns, ignores his mother’s pointed look, the way Chrissie’s trying to herd her boyfriend away. “Why don’t you take your biphobic arse outside before I toss it there.”

Chrissie does just that; she grabs her boyfriend’s arm and tugs him from the doorway, Aaron watching every step until the door closes behind them. There’s a seconds lull in the pub before the noise kicks in again, and Aaron feels the tension bleed out of him.

Part of him doesn’t want to turn and see the expression on Robert’s face; he’s expecting anger, shame at having Aaron fight his battles for him, but when he grips the bar, spins on his heel and looks, Robert’s staring at him with a stunned expression.

“Rob?”

“I’m alright,” Robert says, though he sounds anything but.

Aaron hovers at Robert’s elbow, doesn’t really know what to say now. He wants to apologise, wants to explain, but Robert’s staring down at the bar like it holds all the answers. There’s a blush on his cheeks, but Aaron doesn’t know why. He’s still seething; now that he knows, now that he’s made the choice to learn about it, he understands Robert’s anger a little better. How many times has someone called him gay? Asked him whether or not he’s straight?

“Love,” Aaron’s mum says, cutting through his thoughts. She’s giving Robert the once over, looks concerned. “Why don’t you take ‘im home, yeah?”

Aaron nods, slips a twenty across the bar and gestures over his shoulder. “Coming?”

As soon as they’re outside, Robert hesitates, looks down at the floor with a scowl. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Aaron says, voice low. He shrugs deeper into his hoodie, gestures down the road toward their home. “Come on.”

 

 

 

 

The further down the path they get, the more Aaron’s calm demeanour slips back into anger, like he’s replaying the incident over in his head.

“Who _says_ something like that?” Aaron seethes. His back is taut, every line of his body screaming anger.

Words stick in Robert’s throat. He wants to say so much, can’t begin to describe how he’s feeling. He wants to say something that’ll help, instead reaches across, slips his hand into Aaron’s.

Aaron stalls, but keeps walking, looking down at their hands. He hesitates a fraction and then squeezes Robert’s fingers gently, starts off again about the nerve of some people.

Robert’s chest aches with how much he loves Aaron. He knows his own outburst precipitated the change, but that doesn’t matter; Aaron’s trying, is _actively_ changing, and Robert’s never had that before, never had someone so willing to stand up for him.

The Mill appears too quickly, Aaron still muttering about their encounter in the pub, and Robert doesn’t think he’s ever loved him more. He nods along, tries to find his voice as Aaron digs in his pocket for the keys. Before he shoves the key in the lock, Aaron turns to him with a tentative expression, searching his face. “I’m sorry.”

Robert frowns. “For what?”

“If I ever made you feel like that,” Aaron says, sounding wrecked. “I’m sorry.”

Robert grabs Aaron because he can’t say everything he wants to; _never apologise_ , _thank you_ , and _nobody has ever_ \- Instead, he leans in, presses a bruising kiss to Aaron’s lips. They kiss until Robert’s lips tingle, until he has Aaron backed up against the door, his fingers digging hard into Aaron’s hips.

“Hey,” Aaron says, fingers curling against Robert’s leather jacket. “Alright?”

“Aaron,” Robert starts, forehead dropping against Aaron’s, closing his eyes against the burn of Aaron’s worried expression. “Thank you.”

“Don’t,” Aaron says, tugs at Robert’s jacket. “Come on.”

Robert doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be coming on for, but he follows willingly, kicks off his shoes and ignores Aaron’s irritated huff when he doesn’t pick them up. There’s a plaintive meow from the kitchen, but Aaron digs his fingers into Robert’s wrist.

“Leave her,” he says, tugging Robert towards the stairs.

Heat pools in Robert’s belly and he ducks in, claims Aaron’s lips in another bruising kiss. Aaron gives and gives and gives, fingers resting at the nape of Robert’s neck, his tongue sliding against the back of Robert’s. It’s heated, _everything_ , and it always feels like the first time, like he’ll never get enough of wanting Aaron, tasting him.

They stumble up the stairs, Aaron’s hands fisted in the front of his jacket, Robert’s mouth on Aaron’s neck, his jaw, his mouth. They’re practised at this, moving up the stairs and towards their bedroom, making out or just touching. They’ve done it enough, painted every hall, every room with their want, their love. In the moments he lets himself be soft, Robert wonders how one house can contain so much of both.

Their bed looms behind Aaron’s back, and Robert presses his hands to Aaron’s chest, surprised when Aaron hauls him in, spins on his heels until he can press Robert down until he’s sitting on the edge, his face dropping forward to Aaron’s stomach.

“Alright?” Aaron asks, his voice soft, wrecked.

“You didn’t have to-“

“Yes I did,” Aaron says, leaning in to brush a kiss against the crown of Robert’s head. “You shouldn’t have to take that.”

Robert doesn’t know how to answer that; he always just has, takes it because that’s what he’s used to. When he says so out loud, he watches Aaron’s face shift into frustration, more anger. “It’s fine.”

“No,” Aaron snaps, but when he touches Robert’s face, his fingers are gentle. “It’s not.”

Robert doesn’t know how he got this lucky; how he found someone like Aaron, who’s learning and trying and _protecting_ him. Robert feels weird in his skin, off-kilter.

Aaron lays him out on the bed, peels clothing off layer by layer, and Robert lets him, is willing to be pliant if it gets Aaron’s body on his, skin to skin. Instead, Aaron hovers over him, knees either side of his thighs, hands spread on his chest. He’s staring, eyes dragging slow and careful over Robert’s body. It’s a lot to take, makes Robert’s whole body flush. It’s overwhelming, the things he sees in Aaron’s eyes sometimes, trying to feel worthy of that love and care.

Robert reaches up, curls his fingers into Aaron’s hair. “Please,” he says, throat constricting around the word.

“Just let me take care of you this time, okay?” Aaron says, and Robert knows he means _slow_.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s more than that;

Aaron’s fingers run feather light over his chest, his touch barely there as he rests his thumbs into the dip of Robert’s hips, his mouth pressing kisses over Robert’s chest, down his stomach. Robert can feel his dick fill, just the sight of Aaron’s mouth anywhere past his navel an automatic turn-on. He whines in frustration as Aaron bypasses his cock altogether, landing a kiss on his thigh, against his knee.

“What are you doing?” Robert’s voice comes out low and husky, and he forces himself to stop, to calm down.

“S’alright,” Aaron says, smoothing his fingers down Robert’s hip bones, over his thighs. “Relax.”

“Fuck me,” Robert whines, then jerks as Aaron’s fingers dip behind his knee. His dick throbs, his whole body singing with want, and he can see Aaron’s grin through the haze. “Aaron.”

Aaron says nothing, just shifts Robert’s leg until its bent, his arm tucked underneath, his teeth grazing the underside of Robert’s knee. It’s like it’s hardwired to Robert’s dick, pleasure coiling low in his belly.

“Aaron,” he says, voice trembling with the effort of control.

“S’alright,” Aaron soothes, leaning in again to kiss at the skin of Robert’s knee, suck a bruise against freckled skin. Robert’s whole body feels like it’s on fire; he feels hot, weird, like every breath is being dragged from somewhere deep. His dick is hard, and he wants Aaron’s mouth, his teeth, his hand. He wants _something_ , anything, and his fingers fist around the bedsheets.

Aaron knows him so well; they’ve had years of exploring each other’s bodies, of knowing just how to touch, just _where_ to press to get the right reactions. Aaron spends time on each one; when he’s finished with Robert’s knee, he moves to the right hip, noses at the skin, licks and nips until Robert’s shying away from the touch, trying desperately to roll his hips, get much needed friction.

“Easy,” Aaron says, eyes heated and dark as he watches Robert’s hip roll up.

Robert’s cheeks flush with shame, he turns his face into the pillow, hates how much he wants it, how desperate he is. He closes his eyes against the burn and feels Aaron’s soft kiss against his lips, the fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead.

“Open ‘em.”

For a second, Robert thinks about disobeying, but he can’t, not here, not now. He’s never felt so alive; never had someone care so much about what he wants, about where to touch, how to touch. He’s never had someone know his body so intimately they can take him apart so easily.

It’s too much; Robert tries to curl away from Aaron, feels naked and vulnerable in ways he never has before.

Aaron presses fingers to Robert’s cheek, touch light and soft. “Look at me, Robert.”

Robert does, slowly, throat thick with emotion. He wants to say so much, words never usually a problem like this, but Aaron’s expression is open, honest, and Robert can’t be anything else. “It’s never been like this.”

There’s a pause. Aaron leans in, kisses him. “Like what?”

Robert’s dick is still trapped between them, his skin still thrums with need, and he latches onto that, tries not to think about what he wants to say. “Come on,” he says, digging his heels into the mattress, tries to get the friction he needs. “Touch me, Aaron, I want-“

“No,” Aaron says, leaning in to press a kiss to Robert’s chin. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

“Seriously?” Robert bites out, a growl rising low in his throat. He can’t. He _won’t_.

“I love you.” Aaron kisses him, shifts his hips _just so_ and fuck, fuck. Robert’s heart skips. Aaron’s nose rests against his cheek. “

Robert trembles. Aaron’s expression is open; there’s so much love and devotion on his face that Robert wants to run, to shove him off and just get out. He’s not trapped, not if he doesn’t want to be, but something keeps him here, keeps him hanging onto Aaron for dear life. “I love you too.”

Aaron’s smile makes something tighten in Robert’s chest. “Tell me.”

Robert’s never been with someone who cared enough to worry about his pleasure. There’s never been an expectation that they’d care, that they’d give him what he wants, whether man or woman. He’s always sought after what he wants for _himself_ and taken it. That’s what he’s always done, taken care of himself, looking out for himself. He can’t remember a time when he’s trusted anyone to do that for him, not after his mum, after _Andy_. They never would; Robert can rely himself and only himself.

Until now. Until Aaron.

He tries to say all that, doesn’t know how much sense he’s making, what he’s really saying, but the look on Aaron’s face –

Oh.

Robert clenches his eyes shut, feels the brush of Aaron’s fingers in his hair, the kisses pressed to his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

“I love you,” Aaron says, voice husky in his ear. “I love you.”

It shouldn’t be enough; Robert’s saying things he never thought he would, never thought he _could_ , and Aaron’s hearing it all, listening to him and loving him.

Wanting him.

“Ready?” Aaron asks, fumbling in the bedside drawer.

Robert’s dick, still curved red and heavy against his stomach, twitches.

There’s the familiar shock of cold, the stretch of Aaron’s finger and Robert’s body responds eagerly. This, he knows. This is something he can do, something he can _take_.

Except even in this, Aaron makes it _more_.

Robert wants to cry; feels the burn behind his eyes, the familiar crush against his chest. It’s overwhelming, knowing that someone cares about his wants, his happiness. Overwhelming that he could have found someone after all this time, someone who looks at him and sees something worth wanting, worth _loving_.

Aaron nudges his knee out of the way, slides a second, third finger into Robert. Robert takes it, wants it. His world narrows down to one point; Aaron, nestled between his legs, eyes burning with want, with _love_ , and the burn of his fingers.

“Please,” Robert says, _alive_.

“Easy,” Aaron says, _loving_. 

Aaron thrusts in slowly, the burn, the ache, everything so overwhelming that Robert’s dick _hurts_ with how much he wants to come. Pulling back, Aaron’s fingers brush against Robert’s collarbone, his nose nestled against Robert’s neck. When he thrusts in, he rolls his hips slowly, taking his time. Robert whines low in his throat, tips his head back against Aaron’s shoulder, feels the strength in Aaron’s arms, his grip.

He can feel the heat of Aaron’s gaze on the back of his neck, skin prickling with awareness, knows Aaron’s picking up on the signs. Robert knows when Aaron’s close from the cadence of his moans, the way his body flexes in Robert’s grip. Robert knows he must be the same to Aaron; an open book, so easy to know how to press, where to press, what to say.

Every hitch of his breath, a signal for Aaron to thrust. Every twitch of his body, a sign that Aaron should still. Every whine, moan, grunt, tells Aaron how hard, how fast, how _much_.

Robert’s chest aches with how much he wants Aaron, how lucky he is to have this. He’s never going to let it go, knows Aaron’s buried deep beneath his skin, a part of him he could never be rid of. Never _wants_ to be rid of.

“I love you,” Robert says, over and over, every thrust, every press of Aaron’s lips, until his voice his hoarse.

Aaron reacts.

Robert doesn’t like foreplay, not really, not when he can just have Aaron deep, hot, _there_. Not when he can have Aaron’s fingers wrapped around his dick, not when Aaron can press his teeth behind Robert’s ear, just right in a way that makes Robert’s dick pulse in his hand.

It’s been slow before, but not like this; every drag of Aaron’s cock seems to slide perfectly against Robert’s prostate; his body shakes with it, every nerve ending on fire, noises spilling out of his mouth he’s never heard himself make before. It’s like the floodgates have opened; this one pivotal part of Robert being acknowledged, being treasured and loved as much as the rest of him, and Robert’s body gives over to Aaron in ways it never has before.

“Aaron,” he says, voice wrecked. It doesn’t even sound like him anymore. His fingers are flexing against the sheets, his legs trembling against Aaron’s thighs. “Aaron.”

“You’re okay,” Aaron tells him, teeth grazing Robert’s ear, a jolt of pleasure shooting up Robert’s spine. “You’re doing so well.”

Robert’s throat constricts, his whole body shudders as Aaron rolls his hips, dick pressing _just perfect_ and Robert wants, fucking needs, please, Aaron, please-

“People are stupid,” Aaron says, and it throws Robert for a beat, before Aaron’s hips still, his cock deep and hot and Robert wants him to move, just a little, he needs, “You deserve this. To be happy.”

Overwhelmed, Robert clenches his eyes shut, doesn’t know what to say, to do, how to react.

“Robert,” Aaron says, his fingers on Robert’s chin, turning his head. “Look at me.”

Aaron thrusts again, his aim so perfect that Robert whimpers, eyes shooting open. He swallows past the lump in his throat, eyes on Aaron’s face, angle awkward but he can’t look away, not now

“I love you,” Aaron says, thrusting again.

Robert whines, feels his whole body on a knife edge, pleasure coiling low in his belly, shaking with the effort of it, the want, the desperation, “Please, Aaron touch me.”

“No,” Aaron says, ignoring Robert’s grunt of frustration. “You can come just like this.”

“I can’t,” Robert snaps, chest heaving, fingers knuckle-white against the sheets. “You know I-“

“Yes you can,” Aaron encourages, thrusting again, picking up speed and every slide, every burn is another jolt of pleasure, Robert can’t stand it, it’s everything, too much, what he needs, what he wants, it’s Aaron always Aaron and he can’t-

The orgasm hits, breath leaving his chest like he’s been physically punched, and his vision whites out.

 

 

 

 

 

Sounds return in a low hum, Aaron’s soft voice.

Touch comes slowly, the brush of Aaron’s fingers against in his hair.

When he opens his eyes, Aaron’s soft expression makes Robert’s heart ache.

“Hey,” Aaron says, leaning in for a kiss. “Alright?”

Robert nods, fingers sliding against Aaron’s back, body aching with the effort of moving.

“Robert,” Aaron says, stroking his neck, his head. “Answer me.”

“M’alright,” Robert slurs, doesn’t know how to begin processing everything.

Aaron nods, eyes holding a wealth of emotion. Robert loves him. Quantifying it is impossible. “I love you.”

“I know,” Robert says, and for the first time, lets himself truly believe that it’s _completely_.


End file.
